


then he kissed me

by saltalyn



Series: he's the sun and he's the moon [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: (but like baz's dad), Angst, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Jealousy, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pining Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Secret Relationship, baz is an emo bitch, but rainbow never let us see them Soft™ so this is my take, simon never receives a visiting and they don't search for natasha's murderer, teen for canon-typical swearing, this is like somewhat ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25892374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltalyn/pseuds/saltalyn
Summary: Seeing Simon with a classmate that fancies him sends Baz into a spiral of self-loathing. Simon is there to pick up the pieces.-Set during their eighth year at Watford, Simon and Baz have been secretly dating for a while, getting together not long after Baz returns from getting kidnapped by Numpties.prompt #2: "I need you."
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: he's the sun and he's the moon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865137
Comments: 4
Kudos: 192





	then he kissed me

**Author's Note:**

> lol i don't really like this one because i believe it's a bit ooc, but i thought i'd share anyway.
> 
> please enjoy :)
> 
> it took forever!! to think of a title but it's from Then He Kissed Me by The Crystals

**BAZ**

  


I’ve just gotten off the phone with my father. (I’ve kept mine even after the technology bans were put into place because fuck the Mage.) He originally called to check if I’d received the mint aeros from Daphne (she’s an angel). I replied yes and told him to give her a kiss for me. Somehow, we devolved into our age-old discussion about my sexuality. He knows I like boys, I’ve _always_ liked boys, but he still seems to think it’s just a phase. He thinks that I’ve yet to find the right girl (typical) and that Agatha Wellbelove seems nice and proper.

She’s pretty, I suppose, but once again, _not my type_. I don’t know how many times I have to tell him before he gets it through his thick skull. He thinks, miraculously, some girl will catch my attention by eighth year and we’ll be married after graduation and continue the Pitch bloodline.

Little does he know: Simon and I have been together for quite some time (five months, fourteen days, and thirteen hours, but who’s counting?). Obviously, we’ve kept our relationship hidden. If the Mage or the Old Families found out that their heirs would rather kiss than kill each other, the entire Coven would go mad. The only other person who knows beside Simon and I is Bunce, because Simon cannot keep a secret from her to save his life.

I still remember our first kiss like it was yesterday.

  


**five months ago (more or less)**

  


I’m studying for Magic Words when Snow walks in looking like a kicked puppy. The usual shine in his eyes is dulled and there’s a perpetual pout to his lips. He looks sad, I wish I could hug him tightly and tell him everything will be alright. Instead,

“What’s wrong, Snow? Did Wellbelove finally break it off?” I sneer. He flinches when I say his girlfriend’s name.

He ignores me as he crosses the room to sit on his bed. He toes his shoes off and pushes himself up the length of the bed so he can sit up against the headboard. I follow his movements and blink at him as he crosses his arms and glares at me.

He clears his throat, “Yes, actually.” I raise an eyebrow in surprise, I didn’t expect to be right. My thoughts begin racing with the thought of him finally being single. Alas, he’s straight as a rod. Even if he wasn’t, he would never fancy me. All I do is antagonize and insult him.

My throat feels like it’s closing in. “Do tell.” Crowley, it sounds like we’re just mates gossiping. This is probably the most civil conversation we’ve ever held. That makes me wonder: why isn’t he furious? Shouldn’t he be angry; taking it out on me, blaming it on me? That’s what he seems to do with most of his problems.

He isn’t looking at me, it seems as if he’s spaced out while chewing a nail. I take this time to study his face. He looks thoughtful, reflective; not fuming like I expected him to be.

“Aggie, she um- well she-” 

“Use your words, Snow,” my mouth says. I did _not_ give it permission to say that. He hates when I mock his inability to form words. Why did I say that? This is probably as close to friends as we’ll ever get, why am I ruining it?

He growls and jumps off the bed. I think he’s going to hurt me, “Anathema,” I blurt out. Rather, he begins pacing and running a hand through his beautiful, bronze curls. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking,” he spits out. 

“Don’t hurt yourself.” 

I berate myself internally. Why can’t I ever _not_ insult him? It’s instinct at this point. When the Crucible first pulled us together, my father told me that the Old Families wanted me to break the Chosen One’s morale, it would be easier now that we were roommates. All I’ve done since is verbally (and sometimes physically) abuse him. 

“Do you ever know how to fucking shut up?” he yells, halting his pacing to turn and face me. A flush is rising on his face, reaching the tips of his ears. The smell of his blood grows stronger. I feel his magic building up around us, thick and heady. I decide to say nothing, lest he goes off. He _cannot_ explode in our room, I don’t want my eyebrows singed like he did in fifth year. Whenever he goes off with others beside him, he manages to shield them, but would he protect me this time, if I were the cause?

We have a staring contest, him seething as his magic slowly subsides and I meet his gaze coolly. He shuts his eyes and breathes deeply. I want to say, _“That’s it, Snow, you’ve got it.”_ but I think he would rather die than have me encourage him.

Before his suffocating magic recedes almost completely, I watch his figure tense up and his magic spikes.

I stand gingerly, “Calm down,” I say, keeping my voice slow and steady. I raise my hands placatingly.

His eyes fly open. “Don’t treat me like I’m some bloody caged animal! I’m fine!”

My eyebrow quirks up. He isn’t fine, but I won’t contradict him. I lower my hands to my sides. “Don’t go off in our room. Keep the match wet, right?”

He takes a deep breath, “Right.” His fists are still clenched, along with his jaw, but his magic stops seeping out of him. “Agatha broke it off with me because she doesn’t want to be the damsel in distress any longer. She said I think of her as a ‘happy ending,’ that she’s some prize I’ll win after defeating the Humdrum.” Well, that makes sense. “She also said that I was more worried about you than I was for her.” Does he really talk about me that much? I’m flattered.

“What do you think? Is she right?” I inquire. I want to know if he actually cares.

“Yeah… When you were gone I nearly went mad,” he says. “I want you where I can see you, where I know that you’re o- you’re not off plotting some scheme.” If I could feel my heart’s thumping, it would have skipped a beat. Hopeful thinking has me imagining that Simon was about to say that he wants to know that I’m okay. He wouldn’t say that, though, he doesn’t care about me. I can tell he wants to say more so I stay silent. “I- Nicks and Slick, whenever you’re not-” he groans, frustrated.

What the bloody hell is he trying to say?

“Aggie and I… we were never really good together, Penny’s always said so. I s’pose she was right. But you’ve always- you’re always- I’ve-”

“Spit it out, Snow.” I feel as though I’m on a precipice, and whatever he says now can either push me off the edge or keep me teetering on the ledge.

“I _can’t_ ,” he says, knees dipping with anxiety.

“Yes, you bloody well can-”

He surges forward, cradles my face, fingers avoiding my ears and slams his lips to mine. 

My entire world has come to a standstill. Every emotion I’ve ever felt has condensed into this moment, this catalyst. All that longing, the anger, the hurt, the pain, the _aching_. Simon Snow has fucking _thrown_ me off that precipice, my mind is swirling with possibilities and thoughts and cautions as I’m falling. This was never supposed to happen. Simon Snow was never supposed to kiss me. 

I have the day I die planned out. During our final battle, I let Simon win our duel. He’ll stab me with the Sword of Mages. As I lay on the ground, bleeding out, he’ll cradle my body, we’re surrounded by fire. In my last dying breaths, I’ll finally admit to him the two secrets I’ve sworn to keep: _“I’m a vampire, and I’m in love with you.”_ He should then give me the second most thing I’ve ever wanted: a kiss. (I never really plan what happens after, as I should be dead, but it would be nice if he cried for me.) (The first is for my mother to come back.)

But now, everything’s changed. He kissed me because… he wants to, not because he knows what my final, dying wish is.

I stay frozen, eyes wide, body rigid. It finally dawns on me that the real Simon Snow is kissing me and I’ve yet to move. He makes to pull away.

I whimper, an undignified sound I’ll deny ever uttering. I clutch his wrist in a vice grip. This is something I never thought I’d have. I feel so weightless, if I don’t anchor myself to the earth, I’ll float away on love’s light wings. I push my face forwards to make up for the slight distance he created.

Is this a good kiss? I’ve never kissed anyone, I’ve nothing to base it on. He fully pulls away and we stare at each other awkwardly.

“Why’d you do that?” I ask, more of a whisper, I’m still so in shock my voice hardly projects.

“Shit. Did you not want me to?” He begins to remove his hands from my face but I tighten my grip on my wrists. 

“No… I did- I do. I just- I- _why?_ ” I’ve never stuttered in front of Snow before, this is a travesty.

“Agatha ending it with me made me realize that my feelings towards you weren’t exactly those one would feel about an enemy. I realized that I fancy you, a lot. And I always need you where I can see you so that I know you’re okay. When you were gone… I was more worried about something bad having happened to you than the idea of the Old Families training you for the war.”

Now _he’s_ the articulate one. I can hardly string together a coherent thought, nevertheless a sentence.

“Baz,” Simon starts, “say something. Please.”

“Simon....” I can’t.

In lieu of response, I kiss him. He hums pleasantly and moves his hands to my hair. I’ve no clue what to do with mine so they tremor in the space between us. Simon notices that I’m not touching him, so he grabs my wrists to place my hands around his waist. His hands return to the nape of my neck and twirl around the hair there.

After snogging for a while, we end up on one of the beds. I’m in bliss, I’ve no mind to be able to tell. We lay sideways on a pillow, facing each other.

“This isn’t some plot, is it?” I ask apprehensively. 

He kicks me gently. “Plotting’s your job.” 

“I haven’t plotted against you since fifth year,” I say.

“Really?” I nod. “Why not?”

“In fifth year I realized that I… fancied you.” ‘Love’ is much too strong a word for… whatever we are. It’s not like we snog for five minutes then magically become boyfriends.

“You’ve fancied me for three years? How embarrassing.” I know he’s taking the piss, I just take his hand and rest them on the space between us. “It’s not a plot. I really do like you, Baz.” My stomach flutters. I never thought I’d hear those words come out of his mouth. “I feel like, deep down, I’ve always sort of fancied you. But, I never allowed myself to fully think about it because of the Mage, and… you know….”

I do know. I wish I didn’t. Crowley, this is sending me into a spiral. How is this going to work? Simon and I can’t be together, we’re on opposite sides of the war. Bloody fuck, how could I allow myself to forget? I’m such an idiot, this could never work out, I _know_ that. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” he says. “The Mage, the Humdrum, the war, the Old Families… they don’t matter right now. Just you and me.”

“But… we can’t… they would never let us.”

“Fuck them, they don’t have to know.” I meet his gaze. “Don’t think about it right now. All you have to worry about is me,” he says soothingly.

“I always worry about you,” I mutter. He gives me a small grin. He cups my face again, this time like I’m something precious. He kisses me and it’s devoid of the anger and frustration it was full of the first time. He kisses me gently but passionately. I curl my fist in his shirt but hiss and jump away when something burns me.

“Fuck,” Simon says. He lifts his cross out of his shirt and I scowl at it. “So I was right, then? It’s true?”

“What is?” I say, acting aloof. He wasn’t supposed to know. If it weren’t for that blasted cross….

“You’re a vampire? Really?” I just glare at him. “I knew it!”

“Don’t get too excited, Snow.”

“You called me ‘Simon’ before.”

“I did not.” I refuse to let him have this.

“Did too.”

“Are we going to bicker like primary school children, or are you going to kiss me?”

He yanks the chain from around his neck, snapping the clasp. He shrugs and throws it toward the window. He presses his lips to the imprint of the cross on my hand, looking up to meet my eyes.

Then he kisses me. 

I never thought I’d have this. I never thought the Fates would give me something good.

I’m living a charmed life.

Later, we lie in bed in the same position. Simon doesn’t want to think about it but we have to discuss the very large, glaring red elephant in the room.

“Snow,” I start.

“Mm?"

“We can’t let anyone find out.” He sighs and his shoulders slump. “The Old Families and the Mage would flay us, they can’t know. Neither can any of the students.”

“What about Penny? I can’t not tell her, we’ve a pact.” I curse him and Bunce and their idiotic no-secrets pact.

“Do you trust her?” I know he does, there’s no point in asking but I do anyway.

“Of course I do. I trust her with my life.”

“Do you trust her with _mine?_ ”

“She wouldn’t tell anyone, I swear. She hates the Mage almost as much as you do.” 

Smart girl, that Bunce.

“Fine.”

  


**.o.O.o.**

  


Simon’s stomach rumbles and it’s nearly time for dinner, I’m dreading it. After snogging the love of my life I’m expected to traipse down to the Dining Hall and act like I hate him? This is going to be harder than I originally thought it would.

At dinner I sit between the boys, and watch Simon talk with Bunce. Wellbelove sits further down the table, with Trixie and Keris.

Simon and Bunce are whispering furiously to each other and I see them glance over periodically at Wellbelove. I’d forgotten that they had just broken up. What if I’m simply a rebound? I sigh and re-enter my conversation with Dev and Niall about football.

  


**present day**

  


Simon is out and about with Bunce doing whatever it is they do when they have free time. I decide to take a stroll through the castle to clear my head of my father’s idiocy.

When I reach the courtyard, I immediately recognize Simon’s curly mop. His head is tilted down and he’s talking to someone shorter than him. 

It isn’t Bunce.

It’s fucking Freya Wright. What does that wench want with him? The entire Watford student body knows she fancies him, she has since third year. Well, everyone except for Simon. Wright and Wellbelove have had a feud of sorts since she and Simon started dating in fourth year. (“It’s not my fault Simon doesn’t like you!” That day in the corridor was extremely amusing. Most fourth years were in that hallway, waiting to enter their first class of the day when Wellbelove and Wright had gotten into a row. Simon was running a tad late that morning because he forgot his book bag in our room before breakfast. When he turned the corner, the entire hallway fell silent.)

For five months, Wright has been trying to chat him up weekly, but Simon (bless him) has been extremely oblivious. This time, however, Simon is looking down at her slightly flushed and seemingly embarrassed. He’s smiling politely and giving her _all_ the attention she wants.

I know Simon would never cheat on me (if he did, it wouldn’t be with that slag) but just the sight of him even giving her the time of day sets my blood boiling. She’s pretty, really, I don’t know why he doesn’t like her, she’s been throwing herself at him for about four years. He could have anyone he wanted, he’s gorgeous and fit and full of magic. Why does he even bother with me?

I feel wetness begin to well up in my eyes. I wish vampirism prevented you from crying. I walk past them to make my way to the Catacombs. Simon turns his head and makes eye contact with me, hardening his gaze (I wish we didn’t have to pretend to hate each other). He notices that I’m upset and I watch his face twitch. He wants to go after me, to see what’s wrong. I shake my head minutely, trying to convey, _“I’m fine, don’t follow me.”_

His eyes trail after me as I walk further and further. I turn to watch Wright use her filthy hand to swivel his head back towards her.

I hate her. I feel as if my blood’s on fire, burning me up from the inside. I hate her, I hate that we can’t be together publicly. I stalk into my mother’s chamber and sink down against the wall. The floor is grimy but I’m too full of self-pity and loathing to care.  


  


**SIMON**

  


Freya Wright always talks to me, I have no clue why, we’re not really friends. As soon as Freya came up to me, Penny slipped away silently. Prat.

I zone out while she’s talking to me, it’s all rubbish and pleasantries anyway. All I really catch is, “You’re very fit.” which causes me to blush. Is she trying to ask me out? Crowley. 

I notice Baz out of my peripheral, he looks so proper and elegant I can hardly believe he’d go for me. I realize he’s staring at me and Freya and his eyes seem watery…. Oh. He shakes his head and I like to believe I know him well enough to know he doesn’t want me to follow.

Freya touches my face to turn my attention back to her.

“Great chat, Freya, but I’m afraid I’ve got to run.”

“But, wait-” she splutters.

I ignore her and begin the trek to Mummer’s. I wait, sitting on the foot of my bed, bouncing my foot anxiously.

It’s almost time for supper and I’m starving, but Baz is more important. He’s always been more important.

I hear the door knob twist and I bounce to my feet. Baz enters looking paler than usual with red-rimmed eyes, I can tell he’s been crying.

When he shuts the door behind him I cradle his neck in my hands. He looks down at me half angry and half sad. 

  


**BAZ**

  


“Sweetheart, what is it?” he asks. I love when he calls me pet names.

“It’s nothing,” I say, softer than I intended to. I turn to absolute mush whenever Snow’s around now.

“It’s not ‘nothing’, Baz, you’ve been crying.”

Drat. 

I shrug, something I’ve picked up from him since we’ve been dating. (Can you even call it ‘dating’? We’ve never been on a date.)

“What is it?” I know he’s just going to pester me so I shake his grip and go to sit on my bed. 

“I just… Why do you even bother with me? You could date anyone at this school. Freya Wright practically throws herself at you and I’ve seen how others look at you. Why did you choose me?” I ask wearily.

“Well, um-” he crosses the room to sit beside me. “You’re gorgeous, and intelligent, and strong, and ruthless, but underneath all of it you’re just soft. You care _so much_ about those you love. The way you talk about your mother, and Daphne, and Mordelia, and the twins, and your father is amazing. You let everyone think you’re a heartless prick, but I know the real you.”

I hate Simon Snow. He makes me soft, you’d never think we were enemies five months ago. Why is he so nice to me? I’m a monster. Even my own mother would rather see me dead. “You act like I’m alive. I’m not, I’m a vampire, a monster.” Simon turns his body to face me. He claps his hands to my shoulders.

“Basil. You are _so_ full of life. You’re more alive than anyone I know. You’re made of magic. You _are_ magic.”

“I’m dead,” I say. “I died when I was five, right alongside my mother. Only I got to stay here. If the Coven found out about what I am, they could kill me. I have to sneak around at night and drain rodents to stay alive. You could have a normal life if it weren’t for me, why stay?”

“Because, Baz… I need you. More than anything. When I don’t know where you are or if you’re okay, I can’t breathe right. You mean everything to me, don’t you get that? I’d rather face the Mage, and the Families, and the Humdrum all at once than lose you. _I love you_.”

My breath hitches and there are tears streaming down my face. He’s said those three words I’ve always wanted to hear. I begin to sob harder. He envelopes me in his arms and pulls me into his lap. I press my face into his neck, getting my snot and tears all over his Watford jumper.

“It’s alright, darling, let it out.” My heart clenches.

“I love you, too,” I whisper, almost inaudible.

“I know. I know. Let it all out.”

“I love you so fucking much. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything.”

“See? You’re alive, Baz. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t love me like you do.” I can’t imagine a world in which I don’t love Simon Snow. If parallel universes exist, I know I love him with every fibre of my being every single one of them. He’s the love of my life. He’s it for me. “Forget Freya, she doesn’t mean anything to me. Fuck everyone who doesn't want to see us happy. We love each other, that's all that matters. I don’t _want_ anyone other than you.”

“I’m sorry,” I gasp. 

“You’ve nothing to apologize for.” I shift so that I’m straddling his lap and he rests his forehead against mine. Merlin, I feel disgusting. I’ve haven’t cried in front of anyone since I was a child. He grabs my face and swipes at my tears with his thumbs. His hands are warm as I lean into his touch. He kisses my wet eyelids gently. I slot our lips together.

He said he loves me, he said he _needs_ me. I feel like I could float down from the ramparts on this feeling alone.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! feel free to leave a kudos or comment!


End file.
